I hope you don’t mind calling you so, we’re on first name basis now, aren’t we, after you brought me along into so many adventures. I saw you wallowing in misery after your boyfriend enlisted in the US Navy (we’re in 1943), scrambling for a day job while keeping your hopes to make it in New York theatres (and not becoming just another “Rosie the Riveter” for the war effort), scouring the auditions so that you can keep your lodging at a boarding house for struggling actresses, so I feel that I know you pretty well.
You’re such a nice gal, if you’re ok we could have a girls’ night out together, going to clubs in New York, even though the ones you go to have too many gangsters for my taste. Or maybe just stay in and read pulps together with a nice drink!
You moonlight in a detective agency because you thought it glamorous and full of adventures, but if you’d asked me I’d told you that it would no picnic! I bet you’d never thought it would go that far, but perhaps you were so persistent because you didn’t want to think of the war. At first you were bored with divorce cases, but then things got scary when your boss was murdered, apparently in relation to a missing theatre script… It seemed that the pulps you love to read were getting a bit too real, but you followed the mystery on stage and backstage, no matter how dangerous it got. Yet at the same time, all this goose-chase for a script can never be as dark as what happens in the rest of the world around you.
I love how you never lose your poise and wit, even when a gangster threatens you, you really have a knack for it! It’s like watching a movie from the 1940s with Bogart and Katherine Hepburn (with always the right makeup), except it’s funnier, and very much in the nitty-gritty of daily life on the home front. The way you talk made me laugh out loud more than once, and I’m pretty sure I want to enlist in your next adventure, well done girl!
I look forward to reading from you soon, but in the meantime, take care!